


The Nutcracker Pilot

by Draco_sollicitus



Series: 25 Days of Damerey [18]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War I, Based on the short story and the ballet, Curses, Dreams, F/M, Fantasy, Nutcracker AU, Nutcracker Poe, Rey is Clara, Romance, Snoke is the Mouse King
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus/pseuds/Draco_sollicitus
Summary: England, 1917:Rey Solo celebrates Christmas Eve with her family at Alderaan Abbey, just outside of London. When her beloved godfather and uncle comes to visit, he brings her a peculiar nutcracker, dressed as a pilot.After her brother harms the nutcracker in a fit of cruelty, Rey fixes the toy as well she can; but, at the stroke of midnight, the Supreme Leader of the wicked Order of Mice attacks, and the truth of her nutcracker pilot is revealed.





	The Nutcracker Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the story by ETA Hoffman, with parts altered here and there to fit the Star Wars universe; and, it's influenced by the famous ballet adaptation. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_England, 1917_

Rey Solo hurried down the main stairs, unhindered by her long skirts. She longed for the freedom of breeches, but given that it was Christmas Eve, and her family was expecting her for a formal dinner, she could not forsake her traditional dress for the comfort and freedom of male garments.

As the daughter of Lady Organa, Rey was expected to maintain propriety for the good of the family at all time; luckily, she had been blessed with a sharp-tongued, strong-minded mother, and a progressive father who had roots in the working class. Therefore, she had been indulged throughout her twenty years and had become a high-spirited, oft-joyful young woman whose curiosities were nearly always satisfied.

The abbey was somber this Christmas Eve - and it was this sense of foreboding that slowed Rey’s footsteps as she walked past the tree with its sweeping branches and gaudy ornaments. She understood herself to be very blessed in light of all of the horrors in the world around them: the Great War raged on, after all, killing thousands of her countrymen each week. Dreadful news swept in from the front in a never-ceasing tide - her mother’s friend had just lost a son - and with the news had washed her own beloved brother, not a threescore days ago.

Benjamin Organa Solo, the heir to Alderaan, had returned from war, ashen-faced, scarred, and bitter. Ben had been her most faithful companion of childhood; two years her senior, and a bright and playful young man by nature, the oldest of the Solo children no longer laughed nor played with any provocation. Whatever he had seen had transformed him, and his smile had exchanged itself with a scowl, a scowl doubly marked by the thin scar that ran from his eyebrow to his jaw.

Rey knew her father to be feeling this transformation most acutely - Ben had always taken after their father in terms of temperament, and while they had at first believed him to be dead, they soon learned upon his return to them that this was not the same Benjamin Organa Solo who had left. Still though, with not even the passage of two months time, there was still hope that he would eventually become the happy, easy-going man he once was.

The grandfather clock in the front parlor began to chime the hour, and Rey hurried onward, her pace picking up once more in her excitement. She had missed the arrival of a most beloved member of the family, as she’d been getting dressed when he was announced. With Ben so sobered now, and her father’s face gaining a new wrinkle from stress each day, Rey desperately needed an infusion of lightness to dispel the dark, an infusion best provided by -

“Uncle Luke!” Rey squealed with child-like excitement as she turned the corner and nearly fell into her godfather’s arms. Luke roared with laughter and hugged her tightly, picking her up to spin her around, her toes nearly brushing the carpet as he did so.

“My littlest Rey! How you’ve grown.” Luke set her back down and smoothed her hair affectionately, the way he had when she was a child.

“Every day, sir.” Rey beamed at him. “Father says I’m quite forbidden from growing another inch.”

“And your mother?”

“Mother defies me to continue growing, so that I may be the tallest of the Solos,” Rey reported proudly.

“That I do.” Leia Organa Solo, the lady of the house, turned the corner as well, and cast a warm and loving smile upon her twin before taking Rey by the hand. “Come, my dear, dinner’s waiting.”

They walked down the corridor together, arriving at the dining room - Rey winked at Mr. Threepio, her mother’s longtime head servant, who made an annoyed huff that only barely disguised his affection - and greeting Han Solo, the still-handsome lord of the abbey.

Ben was already there, dressed nicely, excepting his expression, which was one of great pain and irritation. Rey smiled at him sympathetically, feeling no small relief when he nodded his head at her, a small twitch of his lips suggesting that he did not find her to be entirely a nuisance.

Discussion at dinner was lively, Luke and Leia entertaining most of the table with tales of their childhood at the abbey, when their mother, Padme, would play games and cause great joy. Luke eventually took control of the story-telling to capture their attention fully with a riveting tale of a different kind of great war, one between enchanted soldiers and wicked mice, that had taken place at the abbey - supposedly - when they themselves were children. It fascinated Rey, just as much as it had done when she was a youth, sitting on her uncle’s knee, and she listened to the story of curses and magic and fairies with rapt attention.

“That story was hardly believable when we were children, Uncle,” Ben said coldly at the end of the tale. “A bunch of ridiculous hogwash; there’s no need to waste your time telling it to people who are too old to believe in it now.”

“You don’t need to believe in something for it to be real, Benjamin.” Luke smiled serenely into his cup of wine, his eyes sparkling as he sipped. Ben made an angry noise and excused himself, throwing his napkin onto the table. With the abrupt departure of her older brother, Rey felt strangely emotional, tears burning at the back of her throat as she struggled to maintain her composure. It was absurd, really, to be so affected by Ben’s bad behavior, especially when her mother had taken such great pains to remind her that Ben was going through a difficult time, and would need their compassion most while he healed.

“I quite liked the story,” Leia said, leaning over to pat her brother’s hand. “Just as much as I did when Uncle Ben told us.”

“I didn’t know Ben Kenobi taught you that story,” Rey said thoughtfully to her uncle. “Was it true he was a general?”

“Indeed he was.” Luke and Leia exchanged a fond look. “He served with our own father in Her Majesty’s service.”

“I should have loved to have been a soldier.” Rey spoke without thinking, and then winced, eyeing her father, who released a pent-up sigh. “I only mean - I would have liked to have been able to defend my country and my King.”

“I know, sweet.” Han smiled at her, and the sadness of the smile did not go without being noted by Rey. “And I quite like knowing that you are safe here, at the Abbey.”

“But papa,” Rey wheedled, only just, though. “Perhaps you would allow me to work at the munitions factory, as we discussed” - she looked at Uncle Luke hopefully, begging him with her eyes to support her in her request - “I would receive wages, and I would be directly helping England-”

“No, Rey.” Han looked at her sternly. “We discussed this previously. It is admirable that you would wish to help us with the Great War, but...but this family has given quite enough.” She noted the way her father’s eyes flickered to the door her brother had vanished through minutes ago. “Yes. We have given enough.”

“Besides, darling.” Leia smiled at her kindly, but her eyes showed no such thing as compromise. “You assist plenty when we visit the hospital. We’ll go again in the New Year, don’t you fret.”

“Yes.” Rey set her utensils down and wiped her mouth with her napkin, her appetite slightly soured by Ben’s outburst and her parents’ repeated rejection of her attempts to _do_ something. “Bandages and hand-holding. That’s all I can offer, isn’t it?”

“Don’t mistake compassion for weakness,” Luke warned her softly. “You help a good many people by helping them to heal.”

She nodded, slightly chagrined by Luke’s statement and smiled at him, and her parents. “You’re right. Shall I call for dessert and coffee?” Her father looked slightly relieved that she had relented in her request, and he agreed amiably.

* * *

 

After dinner, Ben returned looking no less irate; but, he settled near the fire with everyone else as Luke continued to share stories of his travels around the continent, and into Asia. At long last, he pulled out what Rey had secretly been waiting for - presents from the globe.

“And from Spain” - he pulled out a beautifully wrapped box and handed it to Rey - “A protector.”

She gave her uncle an odd look as she painstakingly unwrapped her gift - and when the box was lifted, she gasped in amazement.

Inside was an exquisitely carved doll, a nutcracker, if the jaw were anything to go off of. Rey lifted him in wonderment and set him on her knee, her trembling fingers tracing the wood and delicate painting of its odd face.

The eyes were intensely expressive, a chocolate brown almost the color of its pupil; its hair was stained black, and its outfit gave her the most pause. He wore a thick cabled sweater, dark pants, and what appeared to be a waterproof jacket. On its misshapen head were aviator’s goggles.

“Is he” - Rey smiled down at her little nutcracker and then up at Uncle Luke - “A pilot?”

“Indeed he is. One of a kind!”

“I love him.” Rey hugged her nutcracker to her body with a happy sigh. “He is quite lovely.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Luke’s expression didn’t falter, but something flickered in his eyes. “Not many would think so.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Rey demanded in indignation, holding the nutcracker from her body to study his odd features once more.

“It’s hideous,” Ben said from his armchair. Leia gave him a stern look, but he continued, unbothered. “Look at him, sister. He’s grotesque.”

“He is _not_.” Rey stood and held the nutcracker out for her father’s inspection. “He’s perfect.”

She began to waltz with the nutcracker, the spirit of the season filling her with a lightness she hadn’t felt in many months; her mother laughed and clapped her hands, and Luke leaned back with a deeply pleased smile on his face. Rey cradled her nutcracker, her heart swelling with happiness that her uncle had trusted her with such a lovely gift.

And then, it was all ruined.

Ben snatched the toy from her hands, and Rey shrieked in protest. “Ben!” Their mother cried.

“It’s a childish gift.” Ben held the doll up, above Rey’s head, and he waggled it temptingly by one arm. “And you shan’t fill your head with childish nonsense.”

“Give it back!” Rey jumped desperately, her face flushing with indignation and rage - she thought for a wild moment that she might strike Ben across the face.

“Benjamin!” Their father barked, but it was too late - Ben waved the nutcracker about once more, and with a nasty _crack,_ his bent arm broke in half.

“No!” Rey shouted, and shoved her brother hard enough that he lowered his arm. With tears in her eyes, she cradled the nutcracker once more, but this time in comfort. “How could you?”

“Benjamin Organa Solo.” Their mother stood and frowned at Ben, a thunderous expression on her lovely features. “That was horribly cruel of you. Apologize this moment.”

“I apologize.” Ben couldn’t sound further from genuine, and Rey scowled at him, her heart raging. “But Rey, you shouldn’t concern yourself with something so childish. And you shouldn’t encourage her.” He jabbed a finger at their uncle. “Giving her a soldier and pretending it’s something _sweet._ There’s nothing sweet about this war! And a woman of twenty years should know that.” He rounded back on Rey, who shrunk in his glare, and their father stood and strode towards them.

“Let us have a man to man chat, son.” Han gripped Ben by the upper arm and pulled him from the living room. “You’ll find that it isn’t optional.” Ben’s shoulders slumped as he followed his father, and in their absence the room grew quiet, except for Rey’s occasional sniff of grief.

“I’m sorry, uncle.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. “His little arm is broken.” She ran her finger along the cracked wood, her heart trembling for her brave nutcracker.

“It’s not your fault, sweet.” Luke knelt next to her and patted her shoulder comfortingly. “I can have him repaired soon enough.” Rey nodded miserably, and then inspiration struck: she pulled the light blue ribbon from her hair and wound it around her nutcracker’s broken arm. She kissed the bandaged limb and then held him tight once more.

“There you go.” Luke smiled at her fondly, his hand gently gripping her chin and guiding her to look him in the eyes. The blue sparkled once more with that old familiar light. “He’ll be good as new in no time.”

Rey kissed her uncle and mother goodnight and went upstairs to bed, after setting her nutcracker on the mantle reverently. Once in her chambers, she dressed in her nightgown and let her hair loose around her shoulders, now that her ribbon was employed elsewhere. Downstairs, she was certain that Ben had returned from his stern lecture by their father, and she was sure he would come looking for her to apologize - but, being that she was unready to forgive him, Rey slipped between the covers and waited for sleep to claim her.

After spending the first part of the night in an uncomfortable doze, Rey had a sudden vision, the kind often succeeded by slumber and vibrant dreams, but of her nutcracker in mortal danger. Gasping ‘til she was full awake, Rey sat upright in bed and threw her covers off her body. She briefly stopped to put her slippers on before she raced down the stairs, her nightgown flowing behind her, her hair still down and around her shoulders.

Her nutcracker was in front of the tree, and Rey felt silly to have panicked so suddenly - until she remembered that she had placed him on the mantle above the fireplace. “That’s strange,” she whispered to herself, crossing the room and gathering her nutcracker in her arms. She began to hum and dance with the nutcracker over to the chaise, where she settled against the cushions and examined her gift once more. Her fingers traced his wide smile and rosy cheeks, and she sighed sadly.

“Don’t pay any attention to Ben,” she said firmly. “You’re very handsome. He’s just an imbecile.” She could have sworn his arm, the unbroken one, twitched ever so slightly, but when she lifted him to her eye level to examine him more closely, she had to concede that it was most likely a trick of the light. “Very handsome,” she concluded.

After comforting her nutcracker, Rey’s eyes started to droop, and soon she fell asleep, still holding him tight, in front of the tree and the fireplace with its dying embers.

The grandfather clock struck midnight, and Rey sat up, bleary and exhausted, still half-asleep. Confused as to why the clock had woken her up, Rey peered over the back of the couch, and her mouth fell slightly open - Luke stood there, wearing an odd, brown robe that she had never seen before. His hands were raised above his head, and she watched as he pointed at the grandfather clock, freezing it mid-chime, as though he had stopped time itself.

Then, he swept his arm at the tree, and all the toys decorating its branches, the odd collection of items he had brought from his travels began to move. Movement at Rey’s side caused her to look down, and she clapped a hand to her mouth, amazed as her nutcracker began to walk on his own, climbing down the back of the couch and walking up to Luke.

“Ready, Commander?” She could have sworn Luke said, and the nutcracker gave a smart salute.

The darkness inside the grandfather clock seemed to grow more intense, as though it housed not pendulums but a secret galaxy. Then, without further warning, a horde of mice rushed forth, and Rey shrieked, clutching her heart in shock. At the back of the horde was a terrifying beast of a mouse, his face twisted and gnarled with wickedness, and he urged the mice army forward, towards the nutcracker and his allies.

They met in the middle with an almighty crash, and the nutcracker used the fireplace poker to beat back the mice. Luke was now perched on top of the grandfather clock, watching with an open sort of curiosity - and when Rey called out to him, he did not answer, nor did he appear to hear her. Assuming that she was dreaming, Rey continued to watch the battle.

To her horror, the nutcracker was seized by what looked to be two dozen of the evil mice, and they tore at his curls and his uniform. With a cry, Rey leapt from the couch and removed one of her slippers; she rushed towards the war and flung her slipper at the mouse’s leader. It struck him in the head, and with an almighty scream of agony, the beastly creature collapsed. Now panicked and disordered, the other mice scattered, scampering desperately back to the grandfather clock, beaten back by the nutcracker’s allies.

“Are you alright?” Rey fell to her knees and scooped up her nutcracker, patting at his curls anxiously. He dropped the fireplace poker at once when she touched him, and seemed to freeze into inanimation once more.

“Of course he is alright. He has defeated the wicked Supreme Leader and his army.” Luke had re-appeared in front of the tree and laughed joyfully, approval etched in his face. “Or rather, you defeated the Supreme Leader for him.”

“Oh.” Rey smiled and set the nutcracker down. She bowed to him, feeling silly once more, and to her shock and delight, the nutcracker bowed back after a long pause. “Is this -” she wanted to ask if it were a dream, but given how vivid and enjoyable she was finding the experience (no matter how terrifying the Supreme Leader had been), she decided that she did not mind if it were a dream, as it would be a very good dream.

“Oh, indeed.” Luke sighed and tapped the nutcracker on the shoulder. “I suppose I can wrangle this for one night. But _just one night,_ mind you.” Rey was confused, but only briefly, for the transformation was almost immediate.

The nutcracker creaked and groaned and then grew with shocking speed. He blossomed upward, losing the wooden appearance, his cheeks fading from painted pink to healthy and hale, his skin growing tan, and his uniform adjusting with him as he transformed into a human.

“May I introduce my niece?” Luke gestured at Rey, who dipped into a curtsy, blushingly aware that she wore only her nightgown in front of a strange man.

But maybe strange was not the right word - this was clearly her nutcracker pilot, after all, but several inches taller than herself now, his shoulders broad under the leather jacket, his dark brown eyes as expressive as ever. In honesty, he was distractingly handsome, perhaps the most handsome person Rey had ever seen.

He bowed deeply, unperturbed by her mortification, his rumpled curls nearly brushing the ground as he bent nearly in half. “My lady.”

“Rey, this is the Commander.” Luke smiled fondly at both of them, and then gestured at the tree. “And, if my calculations are correct, you have precisely six hours.”

“Six hours for what, uncle?” Rey asked in confusion, but the pilot held his hand out to her, a soft, charming smile on his face.

“Come with me?” He spoke again, and she shivered at his rich, comforting tenor. He spoke with an accent different from her own, but she was unable to place it. Instead of answering, she placed her hand in his, well aware that her arms were bare, and her feet showing. As though aware of her discomfort, the Commander released her hand and knelt to retrieve her slipper from where she had thrown it.

He wiped it on his pant leg and then, still kneeling, held it out to her with his eyes clear and expression hopeful. Rey placed her foot in the slipper, gripping his shoulder for balance, and she fought against the strange warmth in her stomach at being treated so...tenderly by a man she barely knew.

The pilot’s arm was no longer bandaged, she noticed, but her blue ribbon was in his other hand when he led her around the massive tree. His hand was warm around hers, the skin rough at the callouses, but soothing all the same in its grip. As they neared the back of the tree, Rey turned to ask her uncle a question - but he was gone.

And so too was the living room.

In its place was a sprawling, dense forest composed of trees just like her family’s. Rey turned to see where they were going, and found herself in a snowy land that stretched onward as far as she could she. She shivered, but she was not cold, strangely enough, not even in the thin cotton of her nightgown.

“Where are we?” Rey asked of her handsome nutcracker. “Are we still in England?”

“No, my lady.” The Commander smiled at her, and she found herself even warmer than she had been a moment ago. “No. We are far, far away from England.” Her steps faltered, and he increased his grip on her hand, a comforting squeeze of her fingers. “Are you alright, my lady?”

“Quite alright,” Rey whispered, watching amazed as her breath transformed to what looked like silver vapor in the air. The sky above them was a deep and pleasant lavender, and she saw in the distance snow-capped mountains that appeared to be made of some kind of candy.

“Very good, then.” The Commander walked forward once more, and Rey walked at his side, still hand-in-hand with him. “They are expecting us, my lady.”

She wanted to ask _who,_ but as they walked, a castle came into view; she realized that she would soon enough find out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xoxo
> 
> Chapter One is Day 20 of Damerey December


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